


(a silent prayer) Like Dreamers Do

by chicklette



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Typical Violence, Captain America Steve Rogers/Modern Bucky Barnes, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Pining, Shrunkyclunks, bring a tissue, mention of Steggy, not really but jic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-21
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-07-15 07:44:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16058645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chicklette/pseuds/chicklette
Summary: Everyone has a soulmate.  Everyone.Since the counsel has been keeping records, there has been one exception to that rule, and considering the man, no one was very surprised.  After all, Captain America, ne Steve Rogers, was the exception to all the rules.So when he plunged into the Atlantic in a plane loaded with enough explosives to take out the entire Eastern Seaboard, the nation mourned him, but the counsel breathed a sigh of relief.  Their perfect record - a soulmate for everyone - was intact..When Bucky is five or six or seven, he has his first bonding dream.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [frostbitebakery](https://archiveofourown.org/users/frostbitebakery/gifts).
  * Translation into 中文 available: [［授权翻译］无声祈祷](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18999850) by [yoosimi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yoosimi/pseuds/yoosimi)



> This fic was inspired by frostbitebakery's gorgeous art, titled "Missed Connections." It's honestly one of the most beautiful pieces of fanart that I have ever seen. She was gracious enough to let me write my head canon for it. I am forever grateful. <3 <3 <3 
> 
> Title from Roy Orbison's "In Dreams."

Everyone has a soulmate.  Everyone.

Since the council has been keeping records, there has been one exception to that rule, and considering the man, no one was very surprised.  After all, Captain America, ne Steve Rogers, was the exception to all the rules.

So when he plunged into the Atlantic in a plane loaded with enough explosives to take out the entire Eastern Seaboard, the nation mourned him, but the counsel breathed a sigh of relief.  Their perfect record - a soulmate for everyone - was intact.

.

When Bucky is five or six or seven, he has his first bonding dream.  In it, he watches as a boy about his age, maybe a little bit younger, leans up over a small coffee table, drawing. The boy is small and slight, with fine hair so blonde it’s almost white.  The boy looks up at the ceiling for a moment, and Bucky can see he has huge blue eyes.  Then the boy goes back to his drawing, humming a song that Bucky’s never heard before.

After a moment, Bucky pauses to look around the room.  It’s sparsely decorated, with a few of what he guesses are the boy’s drawings tacked up along the walls.  The floor is bare wood, and the couch looks to have seen better days, but everything looks clean and neat. Because he is only five or six or seven, he doesn’t see the poverty of the room, only that it looks welcoming.

When Bucky looks over the boy’s shoulder, he can’t help but smile.  It’s a rough sketch of a family, with a big yellow sun in the sky, a small blonde boy, a smaller orange cat, and a woman who Bucky guesses is the kid’s mother.  It’s not the terrible crayon drawing that Bucky would have expected.  The boy is using colored pencils, studying the page carefully before laying down the next line.  

Bucky is fascinated.  He sits down next to the boy, and while the boy never acknowledges him, Bucky can’t help but feel a kinship anyway.

.

When Bucky is seven or eight or nine, he learns that the boy’s name is Steve.  By now he knows that they can’t interact. He knows this because when he was five or six or seven, the boy was yelling at some kids who were picking on a stray cat.  The kids then turned on Bucky’s small friend, and before he knew it, the boy was on the ground, bleeding from a cut over his eye, a bruise already blooming on his cheek, doing his level best not to cry.  

Bucky ran to him and put his arm around him, but nothing happened.  

Well, not nothing.

As Bucky sat down next to the boy and leaned up against the space where his shoulder should be, he was filled to the brim with emotions that weren’t quite his.  He felt angry and sad, defeated and indignant.  He was sorry because he knew he’d once again worry his ma, and hurt for the little stray cat, but underneath all of that, he felt…lonely.  

Bucky’s felt his friend’s loneliness and found himself fighting off tears.  It wasn’t fair!  Bucky had Becca, and even though she was gross and sometimes mean and always wanted to play Barbies, at least he knew she loved him.  They were family.

Steve didn’t seem to have anyone besides his ma, not even a dad.

But when Bucky is seven or eight or nine, he learns that his friend’s name is Steve, and he gets to see his friend truly happy, maybe for the first time.

Steve is at school when Bucky finds him, standing before his class.  The teacher is holding up a drawing that Steve’s done, and the class is applauding, chanting his name.  Steve is beaming.  It’s the happiest Bucky has ever seen him, and he rushes to stand close to Steve so that he can feel his friend’s joy for himself.

As much as he longs to be able to talk to Steve when he’s sad, he wishes for it now more than ever.  He wants to hug his friend tight, and let the joy that is inside of him wash over the both of them forever.  That night, when he falls asleep, it’s with a smile on his face, and the whisper of the name Steve on this breath.

.

When Bucky is nine or ten or eleven, he has the worst day he’s ever had.  He has a fight with his best school friend, Joey Morgan, his bicycle has a flat tire when he goes to ride it home, and when he gets home, he finds out that Becca is sick and has chicken pox.  He is so full of frustrated anger than when he falls asleep and stumbles onto Steve, he tries to turn away.   He feels anxious and edgy, like his bad mood will somehow spill onto Steve, make him somehow more likely to go pick a fight (and who is he kidding?  Steve _loves_ to pick fights.).

He tries to keep his distance from Steve, but it doesn’t work.  He tries to will himself awake, but instead, he finds himself watching as Steve readies himself for bed.  Steve’s about his age now, (Steve is always about his age, and Bucky likes that they get to grow together, even if they’re not together-together) and before he climbs into bed, he stands at the window and looks up at the moon, whispering something under his breath.

Bucky hears Steve’s mother’s footsteps a beat or two before Steve does.  Over the years, he’s come to realize that not only does his soulmate get sick a lot, but he’s a little bit deaf as well.  Steve clambers into bed just as his mother walks in. 

She looks at him, and at the open curtain at the window and smiles.  “Wishing on the moon again?”

Steve shrugs.

“My handsome man,” she says, and sits at the edge of the bed, holding his hands in hers.  “I know you’re anxious, but your soulmate _is_ out there.  You just have to give them some time to get to you.”

“I know, but Ma, I’m already -”

“Already tired of waiting is what you are.  I know.  But be patient, little love.  You’ll find each other soon enough.”

“Yeah,” Steve says, nodding but unconvinced.  “Just wish they’d hurry up.”

Bucky understands the sentiment.  

Still, when Steve finally lays down and shuts his eyes, Bucky lays beside him.  He wraps an arm around the space where Steve is, doing his best to let Steve know that Bucky is there, that Bucky is waiting, and that Bucky cannot wait for the two of them to meet.

In his dream, he falls asleep that way, and his dream sleep is so heavy that his mother has to shake him hard the next morning, to convince him to wake up.  He gets up and goes to school, but feels strange all day.  By the end of the day, he’s sent home ill, and the next day, he breaks out in a rash of chicken pox.  In his dreams, Steve is sick as well, and somehow that’s the only thing that makes Bucky feel better.

.

When Bucky is thirteen, Steve breaks an arm.  Bucky’s arm aches in sympathy for a month.  When Bucky is fourteen, Steve gets pneumonia.  Bucky runs a fever of a hundred and two with no discernible illness. 

Bucky has a few choice words for Steve once they’re both feeling well again, not that Steve can hear him.

When Bucky is sixteen, Steve’s ma gets sick, and when he’s seventeen, she dies.  Bucky cries so hard he makes himself sick, and when his mother places a cool washcloth over the back of his neck and holds him close, she exchanges worried glances with her husband.  

It’s not unusual for soulmates to feel the residual emotions of their partner through the bond.  It _is_ unusual for them to feel it this keenly.

The next day, Bucky’s mother takes him to the doctor.  Bucky’s been melancholy, which is unusual for him, but he’s also running another low-grade fever.  The doctor does some blood tests and a full physical exam.  Truth be told, Bucky’s always been an unusual case.  His soulmate became known to him much earlier than usual, so the fact that they haven’t made contact yet is startling.  What’s worse is Bucky’s creeping suspicion that his soulmate is either an extreme hipster, or...well, Bucky’s not sure what the make of the “or.”

But he’s never seen Steve use a television, or computer, or cell phone.  There’s an antique radio playing antique songs that Steve sometimes turns on, but mostly Steve sits at his rickety kitchen table and draws.  He wears suspenders and hard-soled leather shoes that don’t fit all that well, and in the summer, he sometimes sets a bowl of ice in front of the fan to cool off.

When Bucky is eighteen, he once more dreams of Steve.  Steve is in bed, in a dark, quiet room, and his hand is moving under the covers. Bucky gapes when he realizes what Steve is doing.  He gapes as his feet feel rooted to the floor, and he gapes as Steve makes a small, needful whine.  When Steve brings his fingers to his mouth, Bucky’s torn between wanting to turn away and wanting to move closer.  By the time Steve comes, Bucky’s breathing hard and his heart is pounding in his chest.

He wakes up with his dick in his hand and comes, wet and hot, all over his chest, his whole body shaking with the force of it.

“Jesus, Steve,” Bucky says, and wipes his forehead with the back of his hand.  “Jesus.”

.

When Bucky is eighteen, he’s taking his final semester of high school.  His lit and history classes are boring, but he’s aceing Calc, and he got into NYU’s Mechanical Engineering program for the coming fall.  He can’t wait to get out of high school.  It’s early in spring and Bucky’s got a serious case of senioritis.  He’s only half paying attention to Mr. Clemmons, his AP History teacher, when he opens his book to their chapter - Heroes of World War II.  

He’s flicking through the pages, half-listening, half-thinking about improvements to the Rube Goldberg machine that he and Bobby Evers have been building in the garage, when his world comes to a juddering stop.

He’s looking at a photo of Captain America, and that’s nothing new.  He’s seen pictures of Captain America since he was a kid.  Hell, he used to want to be Captain America.  He had a Cap themed birthday party when he was six.

But next that is a photo he’s never seen before.  It’s a picture of a young Steve Rogers, age maybe fourteen or fifteen, and he’s standing next to a tall, blonde woman in a nurses uniform.  The boy is squinting into the sun, and his posture is half-relaxed, and half fight-me.

The caption reads “A rare, early photo of Steve Rogers, recently released as a part of the Project Rebirth data dump.  It is believed that his mother, Sarah Rogers, is pictured with him.”

Bucky feels his stomach drop out just as his mouth fills with saliva. He has just enough time to think, Stevie, no, before the world drops out from under him.


	2. Chapter 2

When Bucky is eighteen, he and his parents take a trip to the American council headquarters in DC.

They interview Bucky extensively, probing every little detail.  They ask the same question five different ways, trying to trip him up.  There are a few rounds of good cop/bad cop, and eventually, George Barnes gets so fed up that he stands, takes Winnie’s hand and says, “Come on, son.  We’re leaving.”

“George,” Winnie says.

“Dad,” Bucky says.

So George sits back down and the council dial it back some, and the interview goes on.

“You have to understand,” one woman says.  She wears her hair in a severe black bob, and peers at Bucky and his family over steel-rimmed glasses.  “You are not the first person to claim Captain America as your soulmate.”

Bucky snorts a derisive laugh.  “It’s not like I’m gonna get anything out of this.  I just - I need to know for sure.  Can’t you understand that?”

“Of course,” says the man at the end of the table.  It’s the first time he’s spoken and the rest of the table bristle, but stay quiet, waiting to hear what he’ll say next.  He’s a slight man with a receding hairline and a quiet command of the room.  “Of course we understand,” he continues.  “We only hope that you can understand.  Captain America is a national icon, and we have to protect his memory.”

Bucky snorts.  “National icon, my ass.  Steve Rogers is a punk who doesn’t know when to walk away from a fight. Do you have any idea how often he gets his ass kicked?”

The rest of the room quiets and Winnie makes a wounded noise, then takes Bucky’s hand, and holds it tight in hers.  

Bucky takes a deep breath when he realizes what he’s said.  That ninety-pound kid in his dreams is just that - a dream.  The real Steve Rogers is gone.

“Mr. Coleman,” George says.  “Can we move things along, here?  My family’s been through enough, don’t you think?”

“It’s Coulson, actually.  Phil Coulson.  And yes, let’s move things along.”

In the end, they take a drop of Bucky’s blood, add it to a vial of solution and then add a drop of Steve’s blood.  There’s a bright flash of gold, and then the vial turns a deep, glowing blue. 

It reminds Bucky of Steve’s eyes when he’s really fired up.

“Well,” the woman with the severe haircut says.  “Now we know.  Thank you, Mr. Barnes, for coming in.  I’ll remind you that you’ve signed the non-disclosure agreements.  If you share this information -”

“Veronica, that’s enough.”  Phil Coulson cuts her off, and Bucky thinks he’s never been more grateful for anything in his life. When Phil comes in close to say goodbye, he takes one of Bucky’s hands in both of his.  “I’m so sorry,” he says.

Aren’t they all?

.

When Bucky is nineteen, he is angry at the world.  He hates the universe that gave him a dead soulmate.  He hates the God that left him alone in a sea of happy couples.  He hates a world that doesn’t see Steve Rogers for the incredible man he was before the serum. He hates everything so much that Winnie begins to quietly worry.  She just doesn’t know if it’s better to nudge her son toward letting go and moving on, or holding on until he’s good and ready to let go.

In the history of soulmates, this situation is unique.  No one has ever been matched to someone they will never meet.  In the end, she decides the best she can do is let Bucky decide what he needs, and be there for him when he needs to hurt.

.

When Bucky is twenty, Steve struggles.  He’s staying at Mrs. McCarthy’s boarding house, and finding work is rough for everyone one.  They won’t take him on the docks, and he’s not enough of a swell to be taken on as a tutor at any of the houses uptown.  He cobbles together a series of odd jobs: mucking out the men’s at O’Connell’s bar in exchange for a couple of free drinks and a dollar; fixing squeaky doors and other minor repairs at the boarding house in exchange for a discount on the rent; washing dishes at Flannery’s diner in exchange for a few dollars and five free meals a week.  

He gets by, but some days, it’s barely.  Bucky gains twenty pounds because he can’t shake the feeling of hunger, and that winter, he gets sicker than he’s ever been.  Steve spends three weeks in the hospital with pneumonia.  Mr. Coulson sends a private nurse to the Barnes residence to tend to Bucky as he suffers along with Steve.

As they both recover, Bucky’s anger returns.

Why him?  And what is the point of all of this suffering?  At least Steve Rogers went on to become Captain America.  Bucky’s hurting right along with Steve, and he’s not anything special at all. It’s just...pointless.

In the middle of all of this, Becca meets her soulmate.  His name is Davy Proctor, and he’s from California, attending Pratt Institute with Becca.  They met in their introduction to life studies class.  Watching them together is beautiful, but it’s also like having a loose tooth: it’s a low, dull pain, and Bucky can’t stop poking at it.

“Maybe you should date,” Winnie says.  “There are groups, you know, for people who have lost their soulmates.”

“Sure,’ Bucky says.  Because there are groups for people who have lost their soulmates.  Just not any for people who will never meet theirs.  Still, he keeps it in mind.

.

When Bucky is twenty-one, Steve’s life starts to play out in ways that Bucky can now predict.  

As soon as Bucky’d gotten over the shock of seeing Steve in his history book, he’d gone out and read everything he could get his hands on about Captain America.  So he’s familiar with the night that Steve is working the Stark Expo.  He’s there selling popcorn to uninterested girls, girls who look right through him in favor of chasing after men in neatly pressed uniforms and jaunty caps.

God, could anyone blame him for wanting to join up so bad?  

Bucky watches as Steve meets Dr. Erskine, watches as Steve goes through basic training, and watches as he meets Peggy Carter.  He watches as Steve flirts with Peggy.  He’s respectful, and tender, wanting her to know how much he likes and admires her, never expecting for a moment that she’d want him back.

Peggy gently rebuffs him, speaking of her own soulmate, whom she has yet to meet.  Steve is understanding, of course.

And then Bucky has to listen to Steve tell her about not having a soulmate.  About how maybe he was chosen for Erskine’s program because he wouldn't be leaving anyone behind.  Steve talks about how disappointed he’d been when the dreams didn’t come, how he’d accepted that it probably meant he would die very young.  His health never was that good, after all. 

Steve’s wistful tone of voice speaks to the void inside of Bucky, that empty space where his soulmate belongs.  Bucky wants to give up on Steve.  He knows he has to give up on Steve - give up on the ghost of his memory.

But each time he tries in earnest, the dreams multiply in number, in detail, in force.

Bucky feels trapped, and he hates it.

.

When Steve Rogers joins Project Rebirth, Bucky Barnes has a front row seat.  Steve alternates between screaming from the pain and yelling that he wants to keep going.  The pain is so intense that it bleeds out into Bucky, who screams in his bed that night, yelling for them to stop, please stop!  Can’t you see you’re killing him?

It doesn’t kill him though.  It makes him taller, stronger.  It makes him finally look like the embodiment of who he is on the inside.

At the end of that first day, after Steve’s chased down the Hydra agent, after he said goodbye to Erskine, the man he’d counted as his only friend, and said goodbye to Peggy too, Steve finally goes to bed, in cot that is far smaller than it was just the night before.

He lays in the bed, and Bucky feels all of his hope, his fear, his anger.   He lays in bed, and Bucky wishes he could lay with him, hold him close, and promise him that from where Bucky’s standing, he’s still the same good man he was when all of this started.  Better, maybe.

.

When Bucky is twenty-two, Steve loses his virginity.  A chorus girl with a pretty smile and soft hands pushes Steve back in her bed and teaches him everything she knows about making a body feel good.

It’s not a lot.

What it is, though, is enough to make Bucky go out and get blind, stinking drunk.  He hates her having her hands on Steve, hates Steve for liking it.  Hates them both for the way the fall asleep after, blissful and sated.  Most of all though, he hates Steve for thinking of Peggy Carter in the middle of it.  Steve wonders if the things that Betty Jean is teaching him are the kinds of things that Peggy Carter might like. Bucky thinks he’s never going to forgive either of them.

Once Bucky gets over his epic, two-day hangover, he signs up for one of those second-chance services that his mother is always pushing on him.  It’s a service that matches people who have lost their soulmates with one another.  Some match based on religion or age or any number of other variables.  

He goes out with Sandy from Boston, Jacob, who is also attending NYU, Charlie (who is a short, lanky blond with blue eyes, and who reminds Bucky so much of Steve that he nearly leaves the restaurant the moment he sees him) and Carlie from New Orleans.  

He and Carlie hit it off well.  They go on a few dates, and eventually, she asks Bucky up to her apartment.  Bucky’s inexperienced.  He’s a little bit angry, a little bit drunk, and a whole lot nervous, but Carlie takes her time, and by the time the evening’s over, Bucky’s convinced he can do this.  

He doesn’t dream of Steve for an entire week, and he doesn’t know what’s worse: trying to hold on, or trying to let go.

When he calls things off with Carlie, he feels better than he has in weeks.  

He hates that, too.

.

By the time Steve takes his dancing monkey act to Europe, Bucky is exhausted.  He has a master’s degree in mechanical engineering and a good job working for Stark Industries of all places.  He’s paying down his student loans and living like a monk in a 5th floor walk-up in Bed-Stuy. 

There are nights when he sleeps like the dead, wishing for nothing but more when his alarm goes off.  There are other nights though, nights that are the sweetest torture, the cruelest punishment.

Bucky gets a front-row seat to watch Steve fall in love with Peggy Carter.  The first time they make love, Bucky vomits for two days, his body physically reacting to the wrongness of it.

As much as he hates it though, he can’t help but feel a little bit of gratitude as well.  He’s grateful to Peggy for loving Steve, both for the man he is, and the man he was.  He’s grateful that Steve got to have that.  He’s glad, too, that Steve got to know what it was to love someone, purely for themselves, and not because fate deemed it so.  Bucky hopes to have that for himself someday.  Someday...after.

It’s something that no one talks about, but Bucky knows that with each passing day, his time with Steve is drawing to a close.  He knows that soon...soon.  When he was nineteen, it couldn’t come fast enough, but now that it’s right around the corner, well.

It’s coming far too soon.

Bucky can’t be sure, but he thinks that the timeline is starting to mirror the calendar.  As Christmas rolls around and he watches as the Steve, Peggy, and the Howlies exchange gifts in the corner of a bombed-out bar, Bucky becomes more certain.  

He puts in for a leave of absence for most of February.  The NDA means he’s not allowed to tell SI why he needs the time off, but he still has Coulson’s card.  He’ll call if he needs to.

When Bucky is twenty-six years old, Steve Rogers dies.  

Bucky isn’t treated to a front seat for his fight with the Red Skull, and for that he’s grateful.  When he happens upon Steve in his dream, he’s in the cockpit, saying goodbye to Peggy, who is refusing to hear it.

When Bucky touches Steve, he’s flooded with feelings of fear.  There’s some regret that Peggy is hurting, and some at leaving the Howlies to carry on without him.  But there’s no regret about what he’s doing, or why he’s doing it, and for that, Bucky is glad.

As best he can, he holds tight to Steve.  He climbs right onto his lap and lays his head against Steve’s shoulder.  He whispers how happy he is that the universe gave Steve to him for a soulmate.  He tells him about how much he’d loved growing up with Steve, about how lucky he felt to be the one person who got to know him that way.  He says how proud he is of Steve, and how Erskine had been right to choose him.  He promises never to forget Steve, no matter what.  He whispers his love right into Steve’s skin, pushes as much comfort, as much peace into him as he can.

And then Steve is bracing for the crash, and then he is thrown from the cockpit and Bucky is thrown from the dream.

The next day, Winnie finds Bucky on the floor of his apartment, shivering with cold and unresponsive.  

Winnie calls an ambulance, and George calls Phil Coulson, who brings in a medical team  

In the end, Bucky remains in a state of near hypothermia for just over a week.  When he wakes, there’s a raw ache in his chest, and nothing anyone says or does seems to help.  

Coulson seems particularly shaken, seeming unable to stop himself from taking Bucky up into a fierce hug.

“I am so sorry for your loss,” he says, and Bucky can see that he’s been crying.

Later, he overhears his parents talking, and the devastation hits him anew.

“...but a week?!”

“That’s how long they think it took-”

“...the serum?”

“...no one could have known.”

Bucky stops listening then, unable to wrap his mind around the implications.  Steve, his Steve, had suffered for a week while his body fought off the cold, the drowning, all of it.

A week.

Bucky goes to bed with his heart aching and head pounding. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be warm again.


	3. Chapter 3

When Bucky is twenty-seven, his mother cries a lot.  She cries when Bucky gets promoted, when Becca gets pregnant, and when Becca has her bonding ceremony.  She cries when George finally sells his half of the shop to his brother, and he makes good on a bonding-night promise to take her to Hawaii. (Even the air smells good there, she tells all their friends when they return.)

Mostly though, she cries because Bucky is always cold, and Bucky is deeply lonely, and Bucky lost his soulmate before he even got him. Bucky lost his soulmate before he ever knew to call another person home.

When Bucky is twenty-eight, he sits on his mother’s sofa with a new life in his hands.  Becca is radiant in motherhood, in happiness.  She shines like he always hoped she would, though the young years when she was painfully shy around everyone but him, the awkward years when she was coltish and tall, a face full of braces and dimples that rarely showed.  Meeting Davy Proctor brought out every beautiful thing in Becca, and even though he desperately wishes he knew what it was like to shine like that, he doesn’t begrudge her even a bit of it.

Gabby smiles up at him, bright blue eyes and a rosebud mouth.  As six months old, she’s a snuggler more than anything, and has the endearing habit of pushing her hands up your shirt sleeves and flexing them in time with her suckling.  Bucky is utterly gone on her.

“Honey?” Winnie says, and Becca nods.  Before Bucky can track what’s going on, his folks, Becca and Davy are all giving him earnest, heartbreaking looks.

“We wanted to talk to you, sweetheart,” Winnie says.  “We’re worried.”

“I - you guys, I know.”

“I don’t think you do,” Becca says, and her smile is small, sad.  “Buck, it feels like you haven’t smiled in a year.”

Bucky pushes a grin onto his face and even he notices how wrong it feels.

“I’m sorry,” he says, letting the smile fall.  “I know, I just….”  He stops, because what is he supposed to say?  He’s just sad.

“Son,” George says.  “I know we don’t- _can’t_ \- understand.  But with everything that’s happened, and everything we know -” He pauses and shrugs.  “I just don’t think Steve would want you living this way.”

“I - I know.  It’s just hard letting go,” Bucky says.

It’s true.  

After his last dream of Steve, Bucky started having nightmares: Dreams where Bucky could have saved Steve, but didn’t.  

He knows they don’t make any sense, but he also doesn’t know how to argue against his heart.

Becca’s face is solemn as she hands Bucky a small, white card.  “Mr. Coulson gave this to us.  He said that you should use it if you need it.  He said that  - you can be honest with her.  She’s been...approved.”

Bucky takes the card and looks at it, before putting it in his back pocket. He doesn’t think he’ll call, but he knows he has to do something.  He’s been ghosting through his life for too long now.  Hell, he doesn’t know if he ever starting living to begin with.  Steve’s been a part of his life since he can remember.

He looks up at his family: His mother’s eyes are huge and wet, and his father is holding tight to his mother.  Davy has his arms around Becca, and then he looks down to see Gabby watching him, eyes full of wonder before she breaks into a grin and coos.

“Alright,” he says, smiling down at his niece that he loves so much.  “I’ll try.”

.

When Bucky is twenty-nine, he takes another leave of absence from work.  He tries to resign outright, but his boss refuses, telling him to do what he needs to do and that his job will be waiting when he returns.

Bucky travels to Europe.  He sits in a pub that was rebuilt after the war, in the same corner that Steve sat in, once upon a Christmas Eve.  He goes to Azzano and hikes the forests surrounding what is now a war monument.  When he gets there, he finds that the monument was built up around the rubble of the original building. He climbs a mountain in the Alps and fights his stomach souring when he looks down at the train tracks.  

He sleeps in a tiny hotel room in London, on a narrow bed and presses his face to the sheets, the way Peggy did when Steve made love to her.

When he returns to New York, he haunts Brooklyn.  He has a drink at a bar, buys a soda at what’s now a 7-11, and leaves a bouquet of flowers on a dead woman’s grave.

It takes a phone call to Coulson, and every ounce of strength he has left, but he visits Peggy Carter.  He tells her that his family knew Steve back when.  He listens to her stories and he tells her about Steve when he was young, and just what a little punk he was.  He tells her that Steve loved her, very much.  He thanks her for loving him back.

She dips in and out of lucidity, but when he’s leaving, she reaches out, grabs his wrist.  

“Who are you really?” she asks.  “Steve didn’t have any old family friends.”  

Bucky colors but finds he can't look away.  

“Oh,” she says, her brown eyes bright and clear.  “Oh, my darling.  After all of this time?”

Bucky nods, and can't fight the wetness that clings to his lashes.  

Peggy squeezes his hand with what’s left of her frail strength.  “He would have loved you.”

He stops trying to hide his tears.

.

When Bucky is thirty, he starts dating again.  He pays for one of the good services and fills out a questionnaire that takes him almost two hours.  When it asks how long he had with his soulmate, Bucky lies.  Three weeks sounds so much better than “never.”  

He’s matched with Darla from Kansas City.  She cries twice over dinner, her wounds still too fresh.  He’s matched with Michael from California, who is smart and pretty and intense, in ways that Bucky’s just not ready to handle.  He’s matched with Jimmy, who is from Brooklyn, too, and they hit it off just fine.

On their second date, Bucky notices a small tattoo just behind Jimmy’s ear: it’s the Captain America shield.  Bucky’s not sure what to think, but when he asks, Jimmy talks about how Cap was the embodiment of everything that Jimmy was raised to believe was good and true and right with the world.  

Bucky can’t argue.

Jimmy is kind, and sweet, and funny, but Jimmy is also _fun._  Bucky wasn’t expecting that.

They go ice skating in Central Park and see bad 60’s sci-fi at the revival house on tenth.  They go to parties hosted by Bucky’s friends, and Jimmy’s, and through it all, Bucky is surprised at how easy it is.  Jimmy is direct, and when he looks at Bucky, Bucky feels like he’s being seen.

When they have sex for the first time, Jimmy takes it easy and slow, letting Bucky take the lead until Bucky asks for more.  When they’re done, Jimmy settles into Bucky’s arms, head on his chest, and whispers stories to make Bucky laugh.  Bucky’s grateful, even as he feels sad, and wrong.  

He pushes the feeling aside.  He’s not the only one in the world without a soulmate.

When Bucky’s been dating Jimmy for about three months, he starts attending a grief and loss group meeting, led by a man named Sam.  

Sam lost his soulmate while in the military, and now he tries to help others cope with the same.  He and Bucky hit it off instantly, each razzing the other, but also allowing small kindnesses, like a cup of coffee, or an extra-long hug at the close of group.  Bucky’s not sure if group is helping, but he goes nonetheless.

Around six months into their affair, Jimmy makes noises about wanting to move their relationship forward.  Bucky isn’t aware that he’s holding back, but the way that the conversation blind-sides him makes it clear.

“I want to,” Bucky says.  “I do.”

“I know,” Jimmy says, a chagrined smile on his face.  “I almost think that makes it worse.”

“We could still-” Bucky starts, but Jimmy cups Bucky’s face in his hands, and the look on Jimmy’s face stops Bucky in his tracks.  

“No,” Jimmy says.  “We can’t.”  Then he leans up and presses a small, soft kiss to the corner of Bucky’s mouth.  “Take care of yourself, love,” Jimmy says, then turns and leaves.

.

When Bucky is thirty, he gets a tattoo.  He searches designs and then researches artists, not willing to trust the work to just anyone.  

He considers a shield, something like Jimmy’s, but feels like it’s too obvious.  He thinks about their birthdays, of something that just says “Steve,” but none of them is the right fit.

On the cusp of sleep one night he recalls a vase he saw in the Brittish Museum.  It was an image from the antiquities collection, Hercules and the Hydra.  Bucky startles awake, suddenly certain and sure that that is the right image. That is what is going to help him let go.

 

It doesn’t work.  

 

When Bucky is thirty-one, he and Sam are out for coffee, post-group.  

“Are you happy?” Sam asks, and Bucky knows he can’t say yes. “Man, what are you holding on for?” Sam’s eye are kind, but his voice is exasperated.  “He’s gone, right?”

“Long gone,” Bucky says, a grimace on his face.  

“Look,” Sam says.  “I’m not here to tell you how to live your life.  At some point, you’re going to have to decide whether this is what’s right, or what’s easy.”

“Sam, I know.  I just -” At this, Bucky leans forward and speaks low, like he’s telling a secret.  “It’s like I can still feel him.  Do you get that, with Riley?”

Shaking his head, Sam says, “Nah.  With Riley, it was like I felt it the moment he was gone.  There was just this...space, where Riley used to be.”

Bucky sighs and leans back in his chair.  “Yeah, well,” he says, shrugging. 

Sam sighs.  “Alright.  So, you gonna help me run the Valentine’s social or what?  ‘Cause I know your ass doesn’t have a date.”

“Yeah,” Bucky says.  “Yeah, why not?”

 

The conversation with Sam doesn’t sit well with Bucky, though.  He turns it over and over in his mind.  He sits with it through Valentine’s Day, through his birthday, Lent and Easter, and as the New York weather turns firmly toward spring, Bucky makes a decision.  One way or another, it’s time to let Steve Rogers go.

.

When Bucky is thirty-one, he visits the archives, deep inside of SHIELD headquarters.  His call to Phil Coulson has been plaintive.  He just needs to try to say goodbye.  He thinks that maybe handling some of Steve’s things, reading some of his writings...something, anything.  Something’s got to help.

It’s a cool afternoon when Bucky goes to the archives.  He grabs his favorite red hoodie and his earphones for the subway.  Coulson is there to greet Bucky, and he gives Bucky an all-access pass, a warm handshake, and a sad smile.

At first, the curator and Coulson hover.

After a bit though, they walk away and let Bucky have the room to himself.  He sits at a table and reads through a tactical journal that Steve kept.  He traces his fingertip over a picture that Steve drew, of a monkey in a uniform on a unicycle.  Bucky remembers dreaming about that drawing, about Steve, being so angry and feeling so useless.  He remembers the moment that Peggy Carter walked back into Steve’s life.

He touches one of Steve’s uniforms, and presses his face into the collar, breathing deep, but it doesn’t smell of anything but must.

He walks around the room, a veritable museum of one Steven Grant Rogers, before looking over some of the historical notes.  His heart pangs when he sees that someone has scratched out the “none” next to Soulmate: and put Bucky’s name there instead.

“Jesus, Steve,” Bucky whispers.  “I don’t know what I’m doing here.”

He turns to leave, but a bust of Captain America in the corner catches his attention.  

The bust looks to be made of marble.  It’s captured Cap from about the ribs up and seems to be life-sized.  The statue bears the cowl, and the arc of the shield is strapped to its back.  Before Bucky can stop himself, he’s standing in front of it.

It’s so damned lifelike Bucky thinks he can see it breathe.

“I don’t understand,” Bucky says, feeling like an idiot talking to the statue, and doing it anyway.  “I don’t know why I can’t let you go, but you have to try to let me.  It’s almost like I can feel you holding on, and I love you, but this-this hurts.  Steve, it hurts.”

Bucky can feel his face heating and his lashes growing wet.

“You’re the only thing I ever wanted,” he says.  “And watching you grow up, God, it was like -” and then he laughs, realizing what he’s about to say.  “It was like you made for me.  And maybe you were.  But this is shitty.  And it’s not fair.  And I can’t keep loving your Goddamned ghost!”

Closing his eyes, Bucky leans against the statue, feeling the cool marble against his forehead.

“I love you, Steve,” he says, and closes his eyes, letting the tears run in warm rivulets down his face.   “I love you so much.  But this…this has to be goodbye.”

Bucky rubs his nose against the statue, trying hard not to notice that even as marble, it’s a perfect fit.  Groaning at himself, but unable to stop, he shifts and presses his lips against the statue’s, marble and flesh, hot and cold.  

He holds there, reveling in the only kiss he’s ever going to share with his soulmate, before pushing away and heading for the door.  He’s openly crying as he exits the building, mumbling something to the curator and ignoring Coulson’s shouts entirely. 

Ducking down an alley, he comes to rest behind a dumpster, his back sliding down the brick wall before giving in and just...just crying. He cries for Steve, for himself, for the love they should have shared, but never did.  He wonders if missing your soulmate can kill you, because he sure as hell isn’t living. 

A stray cat sniffs at his shoe before curling in at his side, clinging to his warmth.  It headbutts him once, twice, and Bucky is pulled out of his pityfest by the little purr, then chirrup it gives when he reaches his hand out to pet it.

“You’re a friendly thing,” he says, sniffling and trying to bring himself back under control.  The cat, all black, peers up at him with great green eyes.

“Skinny,” he says.  “You all alone?” 

The cat headbutts him again, then rolls onto its side, paws flexing in the air as though it’s swimming.  

“Yeah,” he says.  “Okay.”

Bucky takes a few deep breaths and leans his head against the wall.  The cat climbs onto his lap, then sniffs and paws at his pants pocket, where he has a granola bar stashed.  

Curious, Bucky opens it and offers a bit to the cat.  

Sniffing, the cat makes a slight chewing motion with its mouth, before leaning forward and wolfing it down in one go.

“Okay,” Bucky says.  “Okay.”  He abandons the rest of the bar to the cat, before pulling out his phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Sam?” Bucky says.  “I think I could use some help.”

.

2300 miles away, the late spring sun shines hot, and the permafrost shifts.

Steve Rogers takes his first breath in almost seventy years.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that this chapter has changed significantly from the one originally posted on Tumblr.

When Bucky is thirty-two, he recognizes that probably won’t ever move on with his life, and he’s making his peace with it.  He runs cold - colder than any warm-blooded man has a right to, and ever since he went to the archives, kissed damned statue, his dreams have become torture.  He dreams that he’s trapped in ice or lost in the snow, dreams where everything around him is an eerie shade of blue.

He gets it - his soulmate froze to death in the space of a week, lost to the Atlantic, never to be found again.  It’s horrible.  When Bucky thinks about it, it’s horrible.

So he knows that’s why he’s having the dreams.  Doesn’t make it okay, but he understands at least.

And maybe the world needed someone to truly mourn Steve Rogers, actual human being, versus mourning the loss of Captain America.  Bucky doesn’t know the reasons; he just knows that he’s fallen flat every time he’s tried to move on, and he’s done with trying.  He loves Steve, and he always will.  There are plenty of folks who never move on from losing their soulmate.

Still, idle hands all that.  

So he spends a lot of time at the center with Sam.  At present, he leads one of the groups on new loss and grief, and another on making the choice not to date.  He’s comfortable with his choices.  He knows his family would like to see him at least try dating again, but Bucky can’t seem to convince himself that dating would be fair to anyone, not the way things are now.  

He’s made his peace with his lot in life.

 

Bucky heads home from work, having upgraded to a third-floor walk-up with two actual rooms and plenty of windows for natural light.  As he opens the door, there’s a chirrup and Binx comes hurtling toward him, a little black ball of fuzz with great green eyes.

“Hello,” Bucky says, bending down to meet her little headbutt.  She meows more and more, and Bucky answers.  He tells her about the new  nanotech that Tony Stark has invented, and how excited he is to play with it, and Binx, well, he imagines she’s telling him about a bird that landed on the balcony, or maybe the fierce battle she had with her toy mouse.  

“Tell me all about it,” Bucky says, and Binx meows, meeps, and chirrups, leaving Bucky feeling delighted.  He refills her food bowl and checks her water fountain, and she follows along, never letting Bucky out of her sight.  

When he’s done, they go to the living room, where Bucky pulls out her toy basket and sits down to play with her.  When she’s had enough, Binx crawls into Bucky’s lap, rolls over to show her belly and purrs.

In truth, Bucky credits a lot of his recovery - because that’s what it feels like, so that’s what he calls it - to Binx.  By the time Sam found him in that alley, he’d been wracked with sobs, trying hard not to shake too much, so that he didn’t disturb the cat. When Sam gently pulled Bucky to his feet, Bucky set the cat down and tried to walk away, but Binx wasn’t having it.  She leaped up into Bucky’s arms, sat herself on his shoulder and purred very loudly into his ear.

“Looks like you got yourself a cat, man,” Sam said.

“I don’t...I - Yeah.  I guess so.” (It should be noted that he did post fliers and ads, and he took her to a vet to see if she had a chip.  He wasn’t going to just _steal_ someone’s cat, _geez_ , Sam.)

Since then, even on days when all Bucky wants to do is lay in bed and feel sorry for himself, he still has to get up to take care of Binx.  The first time she woke him from a nightmare by laying on his chest and purring loudly, Bucky chalked it up to coincidence.  However, after it happened three, four, five times, he began to think that maybe there was something there.  

Regardless, he adores the little black cat, and she seems to love him right back.

He’s watching her leap through the air, going after a feathered mouse that Bucky was launching.  Most of the time she’d catch it and bring it back for him to throw again.  It’s a fun game, but his mind is wandering toward dinner when the phone rings.

Bucky considers letting it go to voicemail when he doesn’t recognize the number, but then remembers that he’d given his number out to a couple of guys at group, so he answers.

“Barnes,” he says.

“Mr. Barnes?  This is Phil Coulson.  We have - that is, there’s a - would it be possible for you to come to our headquarters?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“There’s been - I’m sorry, I can’t explain more over the phone.”

A moment later, there’s a knock on Bucky’s door.  Answering, he finds a big man in a nice suit looking at him from behind sunglasses and holding up a badge.  The ID says SHIELD. 

“Agent Coulson sent me,” the man says. “We’re ready to transport you to HQ.”

“Did you - there’s a guy here,” Bucky says.

“Oh, oh excellent.  Rodney will accompany you.”

“What the hell is going on?” Bucky asks.

There’s a quiet pause on the phone, and Coulson speaks again.  “I’m sorry,” he starts.  “I can’t tell you anything over the phone.  Your line isn’t secure.  If you’ll come to headquarters, I’ll explain everything, but please, come now?”

Bucky’s feeling suspicious, but also - God - is it hopeful?  He’s feeling _hopeful?_ Whatever it is, it’s unexpected.

He wants to say no.  He has no doubt that whatever is going on is going to set his recovery back, no question about it.  

He also knows that if he doesn’t go, the curiosity will plague him.  He’s fucked either way.

Locking up, Bucky follows Rodney out into the hall.  When Bucky heads to the staircase, Rodney taps his arm.  

“This way, please, Mr. Barnes.  We have a helicopter the roof.”

“A helicopter,” he repeats, stunned.  

With a touch to Bucky’s elbow, Rodney reminds him that they need to get moving.  Bucky follows him up the staircase. 

Bucky’s not sure what’s going on, and as he wonders, he realizes he’s getting warm.  True, he’s walking up several flights of stairs, but then, he does that every day anyway.  When he grabs the banister, his fingers tingle with warmth. 

“What the…?”  He stops, touches his fingers to his face, and he feels warm all over, warmer than he’s felt in years now.

“Oh, god,” he says, holding tight to the banister, then leaning against the wall.  “Oh, god.  You found his body, didn’t you?”

.

As the helicopter lands at SHIELD headquarters, Bucky watches as Phil Coulson crosses the landing pad to meet them.

As soon as the door’s open and the headphones are off, Bucky’s in his face.  

“You found his body.  Is that why I’m here?  You found...you found….”  Taking another steadying breath, Bucky leans down, hands on his knees.  

“Mr. Barnes, please, if you would just come with me.”

Coulson places a steadying hand on Bucky’s arm, and Bucky straightens and follows him, head spinning. The SHIELD offices are neat and spacious.  When they get on the elevator, Bucky’s surprised when it greets him.

“Barnes, James Buchanan.  Welcome to SHIELD.”

Bucky gives Phil a questioning look, but Phil just smiles his Mona Lisa smile.  

“Mr. Coulson, all due respect, but what the hell is going on?”

“Just a few more minutes,” he says, and then leans forward as the elevator requests a retinal scan.

“Security level seven access denied.  This floor is for authorized personnel only,” the elevator says.  “Mr. Barnes is not authorized.”

“Override protocols,” Coulson says.  “Authority: Fury, Nicholas J.”

There’s a pause before the elevator says, “Protocol override approved by Fury, Nicholas J.”

Just then, the elevator doors open and Bucky is taken into a small conference room with a very large screen. There are a couple of other people at the table:  a beautiful woman with her dark hair up in a twist and a quiet aura of strength; a black man in a leather trench coat with a patch over one eye, and a redhead who looks like...it’s just that she kind of looks like….

“Holy shit you’re the Black Widow,” Bucky says, unable to contain himself.

He leans back against the door, trying to steady himself.  Whatever is going on, it’s big.  There is no way they’re gonna let him in a room with the Black Widow of all people if it isn’t something big.

“Have a seat,” the black man says.  The brunette woman tosses a file folder his way, and Bucky takes it, opening it to see a stack of papers littered with little yellow “sign here” post-its.  He looks up at Coulson.

“Mr. Barnes, this is Director Fury,” Coulson says, indicating the man with the patch, “Maria Hill, and, I believe you recognized Miss Natalia Romanova.”

“Mr. Barnes,” Fury says, and Bucky finds himself straightening up at the sound, like a kid caught daydreaming in class.  “The information that we are about to share with you is highly classified.” 

Bucky nods.  “Go on.”

 

Two hours later, Bucky’s still in a state of shock.  What they’re talking about isn’t possible, but he’s looking at the proof: Steve Rogers lays in a hospital bed, his breathing deep and even.  

He’s dressed in soft pants and a t-shirt that’s maybe just a little too small.  Bucky doesn’t want to think about someone handling him - dressing or undressing him, not while he was so vulnerable.

He’s - Christ, he’s _beautiful._  

His long lashes lay against his cheek, tipped in blonde so light they almost disappear.  There’s color in his face; his cheeks are a little flushed, his bottom lip is plump and red.  Bucky wonders whether the room is too warm for Steve, but Bucky feels fine, so he lets it go.  Otherwise, Steve’s skin is pale, but not unnaturally so.

Fury asked Bucky if he felt anything different, anything strange.  The doctors said they couldn’t detect any brain damage, but they also couldn’t believe that anyone could survive for as long as Steve had without it.

Bucky doesn’t know what to expect.  He’s trying to think of how to introduce himself when Steve’s breathing picks up.  

He watches as Steve comes awake, blinking once, twice, before sitting up and looking around.

The room is modern but sparse.  Director Fury suggested mocking the room up to look like it was still 1945, but Bucky rejected the idea.  Steve’s a smart man.  Any pretense will impair their trust from the beginning.

Steve’s looking down at himself, then around the room again, before his eyes land on Bucky.

He stares, squinting a little and looking confused.  He shakes his head, and looks away, then stares a little more.

Bucky’s like a deer caught in headlights.  His whole life he’s been waiting to meet this man, and now that it’s here?  He’s not sure of the right move.  He wants to rush to Steve, to hold him, but the last thing he wants to do is overwhelm him.

Bucky’s just about to say something when Steve speaks.

“Bucky?”

Bucky can’t fight the smile, or the tears that wet his eyes on hearing Steve say his name.  “You know me?” he asks, swallowing hard.

“You’re Bucky, right?”  

Nodding, Bucky looks away, breathes out a shaky breath.  

“You’re...how do I know you?”

Biting his lip, Bucky searching for the right thing to say.  How do you tell someone that you’re their soulmate?  Usually, people just know.  They know because they had the dreams, and they recognize you, and then you touch, and everything else falls away.

But this?  Bucky doesn’t have a map for this.

“How are you feeling?” Bucky asks, dodging the question.  

He knows Steve notices the dodge, and he feels a whisper of suspicion.  That must be coming from Steve.

Steve stands and turns to face Bucky full-on.  “Where am I?” Steve asks. 

“New York - Manhattan actually.  In a SHIELD facility.  Ahm, I guess you used to know it as the SSR? They’re not called that anymore, now they’re SHIELD, and don’t ask me what that stands for, because, buddy I got no idea.”

Steve takes a deep breath, then takes another look around.  Bucky watches as Steve notices the decor, the plastics and synthetic fabrics.  The twenty-first century of it all.  His eyes flick over the keypad entry to the next room, then flick back, studying it for a moment.

“If this is SSR, then where is Peggy Carter? Howard Stark?  Why did they send you?”

“They’re…” Bucky can’t help the distress he feels, can’t hide it either if Steve’s response is anything to go by.  

He looks around the room again, then down at himself, before looking Bucky in the eye, giving him no choice but to look back.  “How long have I been out?” Steve asks.

There is no way to break this gently.

Dipping his head down, Bucky scratches the back of his neck.  It’s not that he feels sorry for Steve, but Christ, how the hell is he supposed to explain this?

“What do you last remember?”

Steve stands a little taller and presses his lips flat, and it’s that fight me stance that Bucky is so, so fond of.

“The Valkyrie.  I had to bring her down.”  His words are resolute.

Bucky nods.  “We thought you went down in the ocean.  They searched -- God, Howard Stark never gave up searching. But it turns out you went down over Greenland.  They think that the heat from the plane melted the snow, until it sank down into the ice, and the next snowfall covered it up.  Then global warming came, and the permafrost finally shifted enough to bring the plane back up to the surface.”

“How long?” Steve asks.  “How long was I down there?”  Steve’s squaring off again, his tone a little bit angry and Bucky can’t help but see the spitfire kid he grew up with laid over the righteous man in front of him.

“Alright,” Bucky says, holding his hands up and not even fighting the fond smile taking over his face.  “Okay.  You,” and this part is hard.  This part is so hard.  “You’ve been gone for almost seventy years.”  

Bucky’s not sure, but he thinks his voice trembles a little at the end.  He feels something like a sob rising in his chest, a feeling of overwhelming sorrow, decades lost, but that can’t be right because if it is, that means...that means….

“Oh, God,” Bucky says. “Is that you?  Jesus, Steve.” He brings a hand up to rub at his chest, right over his heart, where it’s clenching painfully in his chest.  “Steve, I’m so sorry.”

Steve looks alarmed, like he’s going to bolt, and Bucky gets his head together long enough to do the thing he was brought here to do.  The thing that no one else in the world _could_ do.  He gathers up everything he feels for Steve, all of the affection, all of the hard-won peace that he’s found, his acceptance that he’d never know Steve, but that he’d love him all the same.  For the rest of his life, he’d love him all the same. 

He takes that ball of emotion, and he pushes it into the Steve-shaped space in his heart, in his mind.

Steve gasps, and bodily sways back from Bucky, eyes growing wide. “You’re- how?”

Bucky stands and approaches Steve, reaching his hand out, moving so slow.  Steve watches as Bucky nears, his expression inscrutable.

“You know me,” Bucky says.  “You know who I am.” 

Steve’s look is disbelieving as Bucky brings his hand toward Steve’s moving slow.  When he’s about half an inch from touching Steve, Bucky stops, looks at Steve, and waits for permission.  

He’s holding his breath, and Steve is, too.

Steve turns his hand up, and together, they cover the half inch between them.  

The moment they touch, it’s -- it’s nothing Bucky’s ever felt before.  All the years of hurting, of loneliness, all of the times that he’d longed for Steve, ached for him, all of that disappears.  Instead, he’s filled with all of the other stuff, the good stuff.  He’s filled with the moments of watching Steve grow up, his fondness turning to affection, turning to love.  He’s left with the pride he felt at what a good, decent man Steve became, he’s left with his acceptance of a life without Steve, quietly loving him, his whole life through.

Steve’s eyes widen, and he reaches out, taking Bucky’s hand in both of his.  Bucky wants to use the connection to push all of his love, all of his strength into Steve, but instead, he’s hit with Steve’s feelings, and nothing could have prepared him for the onslaught of emotion that his soulmate feels for him.

Bucky feels Steve, lonely, scared, and cold, and then he feels when that shifts.  When Steve has his first dream, Bucky feels Steve’s curiosity, his excitement.  He’d waited so long for his soulmate, and somehow, there Bucky was.  He watched as Bucky grew up, through Bucky’s angry years, and his attempts to say goodbye and move on, and then through his hard-won peace.  Steve got all of that. 

Steve _loved_ all of that.

“How…?” Steve asks.  

“I don’t know,” Bucky says, looking down at their entwined fingers.  “I don’t really care.”

Reaching up with his other hand, Steve strokes his fingers along Bucky’s jaw, tilting his face up toward Steve’s.  Bucky’s eyes flutter closed.

When people talk about meeting their soulmate, they talk about how it feels like home, how they just knew.  

None of them ever talk about the absolute absence of pain, of fear, of doubt.  

This isn’t just coming home.  

This is safety and comfort, and the softest stirrings of lust.  This is the kind of certainty that he didn’t know could exist, and all of it is bubbling along a current of joy that sings through Bucky’s entire being.

This is love.  

“I didn’t think you existed,” Steve says.

“I never thought this could happen,” Bucky replies.  

He reaches out, puts his other hand on Steve’s hip, and a moment later, Steve is pulling him forward, into his space.  His eyes are bright blue, and in them, Bucky sees everything he’s ever wanted. 

Steve’s fingers are holding tight to Bucky’s shirt, Bucky’s hand.  

“I’ve waited my whole life for you,” Bucky says, squeezing Steve’s hip.  “My whole life.”

Steve smiles.  It’s small, but it’s grateful.  Hopeful.  “Can I?” he asks, and his eyes flick to Bucky’s mouth.

Bucky’s smile bubbles up from his chest, even as he feels a tear slip free

Leaning down he presses a soft kiss to Bucky’s lips, before pulling him into his arms and holding him tight.  

Bucky nestles his head into the crook of Steve’s neck, breathing him in, and he smells exactly the way Bucky always thought he would. This is the part that feels like home.

Bucky and Steve are finally home.

 

Coulson gives them a respectable amount of time to hold onto one another before he knocks at the door.  He seems apologetic, and he damn well should be.  Interrupting soulmates during their initial bonding period is considered rude at best, and dangerous at worst.

Still, Steve is Captain America.  Bucky guesses there’s going to be a fair bit of rude in their lives, like it or not.

“Captain,” Coulson says, with a little nod.  “I’m sorry to interrupt. 

Steve moves to push Bucky slightly behind him, and Bucky can’t help the canted grin on his face.  For all the time he’s spent thinking about what it might be like to be with Steve, he never once thought about what it would be like to have Captain America for a soulmate.  He finds the protective impulse adorable, even as he recognizes how quickly it will get on his last nerve.

Bucky pointedly moves to stand beside Steve and feels Steve’s chagrin ripple through him. They’ll talk about it later.

Coulson clears his throat, calling their attention back to him. “The members of The Council would like you both to stay here tonight.  They’ve arranged for more appropriate accommodations,” he says, nodding to the single bed in the room.  “In the morning, they’d like to run a few tests, interview each of you about your experiences, that sort of thing.”

When Bucky turns his gaze to Steve, he notices a trickle of anxiety.

This time, Bucky steps in front of Steve, putting himself bodily between the two men.  “The Soulmates Rights and Responsibilities Act gives us one full week together to actualize the bond.  You know that.”

“That’s right,” Coulson says, the briefest flash of a smile on his face.  “I forgot that you were certified in the SRRA when you started volunteering at the center.”  If the smug tone in his voice is anything to go by, he’d forgotten no such thing.  “If you like, you can spend your week here.  We would be happy to have you.”

Bucky considers it, but the flash of relief that he felt from Steve confirms his decision.  “Ehh,” he says.  “If it’s all the same to you, we’re gonna get out of here.”  He reaches for Steve’s hand and is flooded again with emotion - gratitude and curiosity, relief and admiration.  He has to swallow hard against the emotion that he feels. 

Coulson offers them a car to see them back to Bucky’s place, which Bucky accepts.  He has a feeling that SHIELD and The Council are going to want to close tabs on him and Steve.  He doesn’t mind taking advantage while also setting some boundaries, and he has no desire to subject Steve to hailing a taxi or, God, the subway on his first day back.  

When they pull up in front of his building though, he’s struck with nerves.  Will Steve like his place?  Will they need to move?  Will Steve have trouble adjusting to the new century?  God, how will Bucky be able to help?

“Hey,” Steve says, grabbing his wrist as Bucky’s leading them into the building.  They step into the lobby and Steve walks them into the mail alcove.  “Whatever’s upsetting you, it’s going to be okay.”

Flushing, Bucky dips his head.  

Steve reaches out for him, tilts his chin up so that he’s looking him in the eye.  He searches Bucky’s eyes before glancing behind himself, ensuring that the lobby is empty.  

“I just want everything to be perfect,” Bucky admits.  “There’s so much happening, and so much for you to catch up on, and I - I don’t know if I can -”  Bucky can feel himself getting worked up again, worrying whether he can be everything that Steve needs.

“Hey,” Steve says, stroking his thumb along Bucky’s jaw.  “I don’t know how things are now, but if anyone is equipped to help make sense of this place, it’s you.”

Bucky breathes deep, looking into Steve’s eyes, seeking some kind of reassurance that this is all going to be okay.

“I waited almost a hundred years for you,” Steve says.  “Don’t you know that you’re worth it?”

Bucky sighs, relief flooding his body.  He leans forward, resting his forehead against Steve’s shoulder, and Steve brings his arms around Bucky’s waist, pulling him close. 

Being close to Steve like this, Bucky feels strong, feels brave.  He feels like he can do anything, as long as he has Steve by his side. 

Steve seems content as well, and as they stand there together, Bucky swears he can feel a circuit forming, weaving contentment, weaving peace, from the energy between them. Did he ever imagine it would be like this?  How could he possibly have known?

He pulls away to look at Steve and Steve looks at him.  Taking Bucky’s jaw in his hand, Steve presses a soft, lingering kiss to Bucky’s mouth. 

It sparks a thrill through him, excitement and anticipation, and he’s not sure it’s all coming from him.  The realization that Steve wants him too, that Steve is excited too, it only heightens Bucky’s desire, even as he feels contentment settle over him.

He’s never known peace like this.

The sound of the lobby door opening startles them, pulling them from their reverie and reminding them that they’re not alone.

Sliding his hands down Steve’s arms, Bucky takes one of Steve’s hands in his.  “We should head upstairs.  You ready?” Bucky asks.

“If I’m with you?” Steve answers.  “For anything.”


	5. Chapter 5

_Six years later…_

 

The lights of the city glitter and shine from Steve’s vantage point at Avenger’s Tower.  He thinks back to when he was a kid, how big the city seemed to him then, and just how small it feels now.  Maybe that’s why they shine their lights so bright: they’re trying to be bigger than they are.

He might know the feeling.

As much as he was starting to get used to his size before the Valkyrie, he never really had the chance to settle in.  First he was on stage and then he was at war.  There wasn’t much downtime, either way.

Now that he has settled in, he’s had time to admire the many upgrades: easy breathing and stamina for days.  The ability to see every color.  He inhabits his body in ways he couldn’t before the serum.  They’re on the same team now; they’re no longer fighting one another.  

It’s made all the difference.

Well, not all the difference.

A timer beeps behind him, and he goes to the kitchen to check on dinner.  It’s nothing fancy, just some seared salmon, seasoned baby potatoes, cauliflower steaks, and salad.  A pint of ice cream in the freezer for later.

Earlier in the day, he caught a spike of excitement as he sat reading the paper.  He’s not sure what it was about, but he’s willing to bet that his husband will be both late coming home from work, and talking a mile a minute once he does come home.

When they first got together, when they first brought Steve back, the scientists and SHIELD asked to study him and Bucky both, trying to figure out their connection, how they’d become bonded across time.  Steve tolerated it only as long as it took for Bucky to be uncomfortable.  At the end of the day, it wasn’t their job to play lab rat to satisfy someone’s curiosity. 

Besides, as much as they knew each other, they didn’t really know one another at all.

It took them some time to figure things out.  

Once he was given the medical okay, the Army released Steve from service, and, with what he suspected was some nudging from SHIELD, a substantial amount of back pay.  Since he’d gone down during active duty, the Army considered him an MIA-POW and compensated him appropriately.

Fury at SHIELD asked him to serve, and he’d agreed, working out of their New York offices so that Bucky could stay with SI.  His first meeting with Tony Stark had been contentious, but after the Chitauri invasion, they’d brokered a necessary peace.  Truth be told, Steve thought Tony was worth ten of his old man, but there wasn’t enough booze in Manhattan to loosen his tongue enough to say so.  Tony’s head was already big enough.

Still, when Tony mentioned the helicarriers, and then Fury showed them off, Steve began to quietly investigate Project Insight.  After the attempt on Fury’s life and the realization that Hydra was still a going concern, Steve was devastated.

“It was all for nothing,” Steve railed, pacing back and forth in their little Brooklyn flat.  “Countless men died, _I_ died, I sacrificed _everything,_ and it was for nothing!”

Bucky sucked a deep breath, and Steve caught a shockwave of hurt as it rippled through his core.

“Shit,” Steve said.  “No.”  He turned to Bucky and took him in his arms, pressing their foreheads together.  “I’m sorry,” Steve said, but Bucky demurred, ducking away from Steve’s hold.

“Just-” Bucky holds a hand out, staying Steve from coming near.

When Steve reached out, he couldn’t feel anything from Bucky, and the absence was like missing a lung: it became very hard to breathe.

“Do you regret it?” Bucky asked, turning and looking at Steve head-on.  “I know you loved her, Steve.  I _know_.  Do you regret it?”

“Jesus Christ, no. No.  Bucky, no.” The thought – the idea – that Bucky might think that Steve had regrets about not living out his life with Peggy was a punch to the guts that Steve couldn’t shake.  Yes, he’d loved Peggy, but Bucky?  Bucky’s his life.  Bucky is the reason that Steve spent seventy years packed in ice.  Bucky isn’t the reason that Steve fights, but he’s the reason that Steve fights to come home again. He is Steve’s home.

Yes, he loved Peggy.  He would never deny that.  But what he has with Bucky?  What he has with Bucky transcends time.  Nothing else compares.

Bucky stared at him a moment and then closed his eyes, letting his emotions free again.  Steve felt the hurt, the pain, but under all of that, he felt the understanding. 

It remains the only real fight they’ve had in six years.

In the end, Maria came up with a plan for disabling the helicarriers that was relatively simple, especially once Sam (of all people) threw his hat in the ring to help.  With Bucky at SI working with Tony’s state of the art equipment, and Sam and Natasha backing him up, Steve had the helicarriers down before Pierce knew what hit him.

Sometimes when he’s feeling low and petty, Steve takes comfort in knowing that Pierce saw his plan fail just before he died.  But only sometimes.

After that, moving to Avenger’s Tower was a simple decision.  Bucky works there, and his neighbors are all Avengers.  They understand the occasional alien invasion or visiting god.

All things considered, Steve is content with his life.  He’s _happy_. It’s not something he ever thought he’d have.

 

The ding of the elevator door draws Steve from his thoughts.  As predicted, Bucky is over an hour late and is grinning like the cat who got the cream.

“Alright,” Steve says, opening his arms.  “Tell me all about it.” 

Bucky flies into his arms, nestling his nose right into the crook of Steve’s neck and breathing deep.  He presses a soft kiss there, before pulling back to grin at Steve.

Steve can feel the happiness, excitement, coming off of Bucky in waves.   It’s beautiful, just like Bucky is beautiful.  His short, dark hair is fluffy on top from where he’s been running his fingers through it, and his chameleon eyes shine a bright, light blue.  Unable to help himself, Steve tips his head down to capture Bucky’s mouth in a light, lingering kiss.

Bucky answers with a playful nip of Steve’s bottom lip, and from there they trade kisses until the mood becomes heated, until Steve is carrying Bucky into the bedroom, with Bucky’s legs locked around Steve’s waist.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” Steve says, tilting his head to let Bucky get at his neck.  He smiles as Bucky sucks hard, knowing the mark will last at least an hour at this rate.

Laying Bucky onto the bed, Steve crawls over him, fingers unbuttoning Bucky’s shirt, mouth blazing a trail down Bucky’s torso.

“Steve,” Bucky gasps, as Steve draws his teeth over Bucky’s hipbones. 

“I know, sweetheart,” Steve says.  “I’ve got you, honey.”

Steve can feel Bucky melt at the pet names, and it spikes his own desire further.  He will always be amazed that this beautiful man is his, that he lived two lifetimes so that he could have this lifetime, this life, with Bucky.

When he looks up, Bucky is smiling down at him, that soft, sweet smile that lights Steve up from the inside. 

“I love you,” Bucky mouths, and Steve is hit with it, hard.  His emotions combine with Bucky’s until the two of them are bathed in it, the soft, gentle, sure glow of their love.

It’s more than he ever thought he would have, and he’s holding onto it, every last bit.

Later, they’ll eat the meal that Steve’s prepared for them, and Bucky will go on and on about something called nanotechnology and Steve will smile and nod, thrilled that Bucky is so excited, so happy.  After, Steve will sketch as Bucky works over his newest project, and around midnight, Steve will drag a pouting Bucky to bed, where he’ll fall asleep the moment his head hits the pillow.

For now, though, he’s going to show Bucky how much he’s loved.  Show him, and show him, and show him again.  Whatever it takes. For the rest of his life.  Whatever it takes.

This is Steve Rogers in the 21st century. 

This is Steve Rogers in love. 

**Author's Note:**

> This story was originally posted on tumblr. Significant changes have been made to chapter 4 (we're calling it the Director's Cut). The art appears in chapter 3. 
> 
> Frostbitebakery is amazing, generous, and lovely. I am in never ending awe over her talent. Thank you so much for sharing your work with us, and thank you double for letting me play with it. <3 PS - [You can see more of her amazing art on her tumblr!](http://frostbitebakery.tumblr.com/)
> 
> I post ficlets on tumblr under the tag "chicklette writes things." [Come say hey.](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/chicklette)


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